Aftermath (slash, plenty of fluff, and johnlock within)
by Garnet Dark
Summary: 3 years after Sherlock 'death' John is engaged to be, Sherlock is tracking infamous Sebastian Moran around the country, Mycroft is spying on sherlock and Mrs Hudson has realised she's out of Milk! just when John has gotten over the Consulting Detective, he is bombarded with letters, phone calls and texts all labelled from a mysterious SH, little did he know it was the real deal.
1. Chapter 1 HIM

_**This is my first 'Sherlock' fanfic, took me long enough to figure out a believable story line. Sorry for the wait. This is set after 'The Reichenbach Fall' in season 2. When Sherlock is discussing Molly, the writing will go like this **__'Sherlock' __**and this is when he is hearing and remembering what happened. Reviews would be nice. **_

_**(and if you haven't heard already, the third season should be out soon **____** look at the trailer on you tube, john's got a moustache hehe!) **_

Chapter 1 prologue:

**Him:** He sat in the dark, trembling, his fingers shaking on the keys of the phone, guilt and fear knotting in his stomach as he typed. "God Dam it!" he muttered "god dam these stupid keys!" he dreaded the reply back, if he would get one, but it was worth a try at least, he had left nemours notes but all were ignored and screwed up, he was certain that the text would work, well not certain, he was- dare I say it, perhaps (even though he loathed using the word) hopeful his request would be answered this time? Hope-Agh! He really, really loathed that word indeed. There, sent, all he had to do was wait…right, he could do that couldn't he?

**John:** God I hate work, well I used to love working, but that was before…yeah, life without Sherlock was difficult to say the least. There was a time where I needed his life style-needed him, but that was long ago. It had been 3 years since the…incident which lead to Sherlock's suicide. Sure we had uncovered the spider web of lies that Jim Moriate had spun about the great detective, but it still didn't explain why he would j-jump, I mean sure his career was over at the time, and he did live for his work-but it just didn't add up. He lived for other things as well, such as…well I can't think of anything at the moment but I was sure he had other things to fall back on. He loved his music, I suppose, but he could become terribly bored, in-between cases. Look at me, fawning over him like some love sick boy, he's gone now and he's never coming back. I wiped tears away from my eyes, and then entered my new house. It was a little red bricked, 2 bedroomed house with a little back yard, down the street from 221B Baker Street.

Mary and I (my fiancé) had agreed to say close to Mrs Hudson, she wasn't taking Sherlock's absence well-we all weren't. I still can't go up to my old room, to see Sherlock's stuff still there, like he hadn't left. "I'm home!" I shouted-no answer…my old army instincts kicked in, I was deadly calm-the calmest I had been in ages-as I quietly made my way, inching across the wall, my gun pulled out from my back pocket. It was dark in the house, no lights were on-where was Mary? "Hello?" I shouted out, "Mary?" silence followed. I looked in the living room, it was empty, I poked my head into the downstairs bathroom-empty and then I went into the kitchen, no one was in sight, I had made it to the island in the centre of the room when…BARK! My heart leapt into my mouth as I spun round to the source, Gladstone (our British bull dog) panted heavily from the doorway, I laughed at how ridiculous I was being and walked over to switch on the lights. There was indeed a note on the island it read: _I've gone to my mother's house for the night she says she's feeling unwell, you know how she gets. I've left you some sandwiches in the fridge feel free to help yourself to the biscuits. Don't forget to feed Gladstone. Love you, from Mary (your fiancé) xxx_

I don't know why I get like this-to be fair, my PTSD was back, and this is one of my ways of finding danger to stop the tremor in my hand, granted my stick wasn't back-yet. I placed the note back down and turned the kettle on, arranging the mug with the sugar and tea bag already inside closer, ah how I loved the future Mrs Watson, and settled down on one of the kitchen chairs, taking a bite out of my sandwich…mmm, ham, gherkin and cheese. I hadn't realised I had dropped off when a text message came through, scaring the life out of me. "Gah" I jumped up, tea all over my beige jumper. Putting down the mug, I fumbled around with my phone, then looked at the ID, 'unknown address' before checking the message. My blood ran cold in my veins and I shivered. _"Come to 221 B Baker Street, I'm waiting, SH" _this was some sort of a sick joke, so my creepy stalker has upgraded to using the mobile phone now has he? I had wondered whether or not it was Mycroft or Lestrade, but they were just as cut up over this as I was, but I wouldn't put it past Anderson to do something like this, but then again it seemed too cruel for his standards even.

It had to be someone working for Moriate, (well used to work for) and I had a plan. I would go over, with the gun, (taking the bullet proof vest Lestrade gave me, which reminds me I'll need to give him a call…)

**Him:** I where was he?! What was taking so long? It has been 15 long minuets since I sent the text. He would have been here by now if…well, it looks like he hasn't fallen for my plan, again, *sigh* I shouldn't have put SH at the end; it had made him suspicious of me, oh why must he take soo long, I'm bored, and-and _scared _well, not exactly scared so to say, more anxious, and worried, and stop it! Now is not the time! Think, think, what would he do? Probably involve that brainless boneheaded lestrade, to think, he thought he could get along fine on his own. Crimes were going through the roof, plenty left unsolved where they could easily be done within an hour. I remained in my seat, in total darkness, in the 'thinking pose' I had assumed over the years (a Holmes trait no doubt.) To any observer I looked the essence of calm, but in their tiny brains they would fail to spot the slight tremor of the hand and the mess of hair that had repeatedly been yanked at by restless hands. Where was he?

**John:** now that everything was in place, Lestrade in an unmarked car down the street with several ununiformed officers. All I had to do was, if I were in danger, press the call button on my phone, already set up just in case. I was no longer shaking; this was the best I had felt in a long, long time, which meant I was either I was going mad or I was an adrenalin junky form all those times of following Sherlock around. I actually missed the chase, there I said it. I had actually become a 'Medical Examiner' for the Scotland Yard so I had something to do, I was already rushed off my feet, but it was a good way to keep me busy, even if I had to work with Anderson. Focus John Watson focus. Being at 211B Baker Street brought back painful memories to me, ignoring this I opened the front door-why doesn't Mrs Hudson ever lock the door? And peeked in her room, she was sound asleep from the sound of it, (she always did snore loudly) it made me smile, but it soon slipped from my face as I looked up the stairs, right, time to face you demons john. _Come on then, there's only 7 steps, count them,_ _one,_ my heart started to beat inside my chest, my breathing accelerating. _Two,_ my palms were sweaty, they're only stairs john, _three_, I'm not scared of looking at _his_ room, I'm not, _four, five six_, just one more, that's it, _seven_. I was a jumbled mess before I'd even got there, it wasn't the fact that some fraud was there, it was because I hadn't been in the flat since Sherlock…died.

I twisted the door knob and pushed the door open. It was dark and it took time for my eyes to adjust. In the living room, in Sherlock's old chair something shifted in the darkness. No I was seeing things, _he's_ not really there, no, he's dead, I froze, my breath next to none-existence calmness settling over me, it was exactly the same as it was, it seemed as if Mrs Hudson had dusted but had not moved an entire thing out of its place, Sherlock's dirty mug sat in its place on the coffee table next to his blood type experiment. I half expected him to stride back in here demanding where he'd been, and that he had been bored. Something shifted again; it was not my eyesight this time. The figure stood. It-it, no it couldn't be, but it looked like… "Sherlock?"

**Sherlock:** John. John why won't you look at me? look at me! he just stood there, looking about like I wasn't there, sitting, watching him, waiting for him to say something, not being able to say anything myself, my throat clogging up with '_Emotion'_, I stood on trembling legs like a new born lamb. His eyes snapped towards me, he turned ridged, his whole demeanour screamed 'run' his fight or flight instinct, but for once, I left the deductions at that, I didn't want to know how he'd been, or what he'd been up to since I was…away, I just looked into those blue, blue eyes and my body tensed, unsure of what was going to happen, "Sherlock?" his voice trembled and I shivered, that voice, it was good to finally see it coming from the source instead of a phone line. "John," it was a sigh, a prayer escaping my lips.

**John:** it _was_ him, it was _HIM_! IT WAS SHERLOCK! HE WAS BACK! BUT HOW, WHY WHEN? I don't understand-I can't take it, it's too much…"John," it was said reverently, in his low baritone voice echoing through the small flat. My legs crumpled underneath me, I couldn't feel anything I had gone completely numb, my brain was shutting down, I…"John it's okay, you've gone into shock, John, JOHN! SNAP OUT OF IT!" I felt a sting across my cheek; my hand instinctively flew up to grasp the neck in front of me, knocking my opponents feet from underneath him and "john!" he gasped. Oh God! Oh god Sherlock! I was lying on top of Sherlock, a choke hold on his neck, I let go and stared down, shock turned into anger, "HOW!" I demanded, knowing he'd get my drift, "its…complicatedly long, john," he squirmed uncomfortably from underneath me, "HOW! SHERLOCH HOW!" I tightened my fists in his…oh god his purple shirt, don't get side tracked john, don't. "I can't understand HOW you could be here when you were _supposed_ to be DEAD, it this some kind of a sick joke to you Sherlock? Because you being gone for THREE years and now your suddenly back form the dead is Not at all Funny. I thought you were DEAD Sherlock! Do you realise how it made me FEEL? No, wait- I forget the great SHERLOCK HOLMES doesn't have _feelings_, does he?" I lurched up from my position away from Sherlock's shocked and hurt face, I began to pace, my hands clenched in my short grey hair, I would have laughed to see the roles reversed if I was not so hurt and angry and confused.

**Sherlock:** my heart was in my mouth that was childish of him to throw at me, I did have…_feelings_, I did, and I thought he knew that after the phone call. And the letters. I sat up and watched him pace; "I-john, I'm so s-sorry, but I had to…" he exploded into a roar of "OFCOURSE YOUR NOT SORRY! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME IF YOU DIDN'T CARE IN THE SLIGHTEST HOW I'D FEEL!" he threw the coffee table on its side sending my experiment on the floor, my favourite mug shattering into tiny fragments. The loud bang made me flinch backwards; Me! Flinching! But this was John, the clam one. The together one, my emotional crutch, my true friend; He was frightening me; the truth was I was scared of john in this moment. He stood with his back to me, breathing heavily, and then his shoulders began to shake… "please, don't cry john, please," I stood and tried to place my hand on his shoulder. "Don't!" he said menacingly. "John!" I pleaded, "no!" he said. So we just stood there, silent. Well I was silent-through embarrassingly tears ran down my face, with john's sobbing becoming louder, he dropped to his knees again, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he tried to pick up the broken pieces of my mug, "stop, john, STOP!" I scolded, and he dropped the silvers of ceramic. He was full out bawling like a baby and I wasn't far off, dam these emotions, I wrapped my arms around him, cradling him, breathing in his scent, oh how I'd missed him. We manoeuvred so that he was…sitting on my lap, okay this was weird. His head tucked into my neck, I rested my chin on his head, I gently rocked us back and forth, and as much as I wanted to cradle him this was not the type of cradling I had dreamed of. I knew I loved him for a long time, but he was 'strait' so there was nothing to be done about it. It hurt me to be around him, but it hurt me more not to be around him. "I'm sorry," I said again, and he let out a laughing bark "Sherlock Holmes, did you just say you were sorry?" he sniffled and I couldn't help but chuckle, "you must have been mistaken," I said with an air of aloofness, it felt great to be joking with john again.


	2. Chapter 2 SHERLOCK

**Hey guys soo, what do you think so far? Please tell me what you think, all reviews are gladly noted. This is my first Sherlock fanfic, so I would like to know what you think and if I have made any mistakes. This one explains more what happened. Enjoy…**

**John:** I can't believe it, I had gone from angry ranting to a blubbering mess in less than ten seconds. I chuckled along with Sherlock's easy laugh, but it didn't last long and we were soon lost in our thoughts, if anyone had told me I would be sitting in Sherlock's lap I would have laughed in their faces. I can't believe he was back, my friend was here, alive, breathing, I suddenly started laughing incredulously, and carried on laughing when Sherlock shifted so he could look at me, eye brow raised, I found I could not stop, a note of hysteria kicking in, and tears of laughter rolled down my face, "john, do I need to slap you again," he warned and I managed to calm myself down. "No, no that won't be necessary," I calmed my breathing then slid off the detectives warm-if not bony, lap. "How Sherlock?" I said, my knees opposite his, "as I said it's a very long story," he squirmed "start at the beginning," I said reassuringly nodding, "well, you remember when I, er, do you remember the night before you saw me…die?" his Adams apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, and I felt flutters in my belly-Not Now John! "Yeah," I swallowed too, I remember every moment spent with the genius, ups and downs. "Well, then you'll recall our trip to the lab do you not?" he said, was that a glimmer of sadness in his eyes? I nodded, "when I was…gone for a while, I decided to visit…the morgue again." He shrugged, I raised my brow at him, "what?" he demanded "it makes me feel calm," I shrugged innocently "let me get this straight, being in a morgue makes you feel…calm?" I couldn't help but giggle, "what?!" he was getting frustrated, he never was able to disconcern feelings, especially my own. I chuckled "it's just…I would have said 'that was a 'Sherlock' thing," I gawfed, he scowled "_what?_" he huffed, his chest puffing up. "it-it's just that, it's such a 'Sherlock' thing to say, hehehe!" I thing I'm slap-happy. "Humph! Do you want to hear the rest of the story or what?" he demanded, arms crossed on his chest. "Go on," I said, feeling more serious, "right, when I went back to the morgue Molly-(yes Molly gave me some good advice)… I went to her because earlier that day she saw something in me…she saw Me." I frowned "what?" I said, "do you remember being in the lab?" I nodded "well she said something to me that let me know she was…smarter than I thought, more observant, she said…" he trailed off, his eyes somewhere else.

**Sherlock:** I was back there, in that time, remembering the words Molly said to me,

"_you're a bit like my dad. He's dead. Oh sorry," I put my eyes to the samples in front of me" Molly please don't feel the need to make conversation it's really not your area."… _

"I was rude to her, never the less she carried on telling me about her father, she said and a quote 'what I mean to say was, when he was dying he was always cheerful, always lovely. Except when he thought no-one could see, I saw him once, he looked…sad.'" I shrugged at John, "I had warned her to stop, (_"molly!"_) I didn't want to talk; she carried on, 'you look sad. When you think he can't see you,' I had known then that she was a complete asset…" John interrupted me "wait, why were you sad?" he was confused, "it was then that I knew that one way or another I was going to die." I said, and john's lips formed a little 'O'. "So anyway she asked me, 'Are you okay?' ('_And don't just say that you are because I know what looking sad like that means,_') I had smiled and said 'you can see me' it was nice to know she had 'feelings', she had said 'but I don't count' which made me…guilty, it was the first time I had felt guilt for my behaviour,"

'_what I'm trying to say is, if there is anything I can do, anything at all, you can have me, no I just mean-I mean; If, if there's anything you need, its fine." "But what would I want from you?" "Nothing. I don't know." _

"Sherlock?" John brought me back to the surface, "yes, where was I oh yes, it was then I knew I…cared about molly, not in the way I care about you but she wasn't terrible to say we could be 'friends' so later that day I went back and told her that she wasn't that terrible…"

'_You're wrong you know, you do count, you've always counted and I've always trusted you, but you were right…I'm not okay.' 'Tell me what's wrong' 'molly I think I'm going to die' 'what do you need?' 'If I wasn't everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am, would you still want to help me?' 'What do you need?' 'You'. _

"She agreed to help me with my escape route." I shrugged, "how?" he said scratching his head, "here's the clever bit, so we've established that Moriate wanted me dead right?" I asked and john nodded, transfixed "well, he texted me saying to meet him on the roof, right? Still with me John? That was when I knew I would have to die. You see up on that roof he left me an ultimatum, if I died, then you, Mrs Hudson, lestrade and Molly would live, if not, if I killed him, then you all will be dead." I reached out and squeezed johns hand, it looked like he was remembering that day, "he had snipers aimed at all of you and if they didn't see me die, well you'd die, I couldn't give them the message because Moriate killed himself, I'll admit, I was scared, very, very scared and I didn't know If I'd pull it off, I could of died, it was very high… I wasn't ready to say goodbye yet, I mourned the loss of our friendship, John, I cried, real tears up on that roof." Tears were again streaming from both our eyes, "that was the first time in many years I cried over anything, not after mummy died, you see, I care for you deeply and I couldn't bare it that I was going to hurt you."

''_Sherlock, are you okay?' 'Turn around and walk back the way you came.' 'No, I'm coming in.__'__ 'Just. Do as I ask. Please.' 'Where?' 'Stop there.' 'Sherlock.' 'Okay, look up. I'm on the rooftop.__' __'__Oh god.' __'__I— I— I can't come down so we'll just have to do it like this.'__ '__What's going on?'__ '__An apology. It's all true.' 'What?' 'Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty.__' '__Why are you saying this?' 'I'm a fake.' 'Sherlock-'the newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs Hudson and Molly. In fact, tell anyone who will listen to you. That I created Moriarty for my own purposes.' 'Okay, shut up, Sherlock. Shut up. The first time we met—the first time we met—you knew all about my sister, right?' 'Nobody could be that clever.' 'You could.' 'I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you. It's a trick. It's just a magic trick.' 'No. Alright, stop it now.' 'No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move.' 'yeah, Alright.' 'Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please, will you do this for me?' 'Do what?' 'This phone call, it's... it's my note. That's what people do, don't they? Leave a note.' 'Leave a note when?' 'Goodbye, John.' 'No. Sherlock, SHERLOCK!"_

"But how, how did you survive?" John said finally, "now come on John, it wasn't too hard to figure out, you're not stupid, think, details," his mind capability was seriously lacking. "What?" he scowled, "we're not all like you are we Sherlock," he was angry at me, 3 years had gone by, but it was still the same between us. Typical. "I stopped you at that point because the garages obscured your view; there was the truck, (full of plastic bags thanks to Mycroft) that was supposed to be there, to catch me from falling, and then all was left to do was to scatter some brains (from molly) onto my head and the floor all in time for you to finally come round the corner, (I had the cyclist run into you so then the rests history." I shrugged. John looked lost.

**John:** so it was all planned, behind my back? "but that didn't explain why I couldn't feel a pulse," I said, feeling hurt and Sherlock looked at me like he was hiding something, a sheepish twist of the mouth, "Sherlock," I warned and he sighed "okay, I kind of fell wrong, and actually bounced off the van and onto the floor, getting quite a serious head injury, I knew something could go wrong and that was why an ambulance was on standby, which was why also one of Mycroft's me were there to scatter the brains if I was to fail. It's all so long and complicated," he shrugged "so you're telling me you did die?" I was very confused by this point, "yes…" he wouldn't look me in the eye, "Sherlock," I sighed and rubbed my eyes, "trust you," I shook my head, but something kept niggling at the back of my mind, "why was I left out?" I didn't know I'd said that out loud, "it was the only way, John, you know as well as I do that no-one can so much as breath with Mycroft without signing paperwork, he's heavily guarded, so it was safe for him to know, and as for Molly, it seemed only natural to get her help, why would a sniper be on little, 'insignificant' molly, (Moriate's words not mine,) she was perfect for the job and she saw me, she asked if she would help." He picked at invisible dirt on his coat.

"Why did you leave me out? What are you hiding?" I demanded, now I was worried, he squirmed "now john, don't get angry but, Mrs Hudson knows too," he said it so fast it came out as don'tgetangrybutMrsHudsonknowstoo, so it took me time to understand what he was trying to say. I blinked and looked at the pained look on his face, "I'm sorry," he said, "Mrs Hudson knew? when?" I know I shouldn't be surprised but what the hell "look, you know she is a very good actress right, so I knew it would be okay to let her in on the plan, I wanted her to look after you if I did die, and to go along with the pretence if I didn't…" that man! "you're telling me that she knew the whole time and never told me, she let me think…oh god is everything a lie? Does anyone care about me at all?" I stood and paced "John, we did this to protect you, we all care for you safety, you said so yourself that you can't act to save your life," he tried to reason with me "_I could have TRIED Sherlock_," I hissed "so are you now going to tell me Lestrade was in on it too?" the look on his face said it all "great! JUST _great!_" my clenched fists were shaking with anger, I was boiling internally with undiluted rage, "John, please, I-I'm so sorry," he looked up tearfully. "Don't! Right now I don't know whether or not I want to hit you or kiss you, you IDIOT! You think this is a good enough excuse, please enlighten me, why was _Lestrade_ in on it and I wasn't? is he your new _best friend_ Sherlock? Do I mean nothin to _you_?" he stood "now that's not fair John, you know how I care for you!" he scowled "if I didn't 'care' then why would I put up with your slow mind, or your constant moaning about my experiments or the arguments on who's going to buy the MILK JOHN, I CARE, I DO, AND _this is_ WHY I did this, to PROTECT you, John!" his volume was raising by the minuet, soon he'd be screaming at me, I sighed and rubbed my eyes, "I'm sorry, Sherlock, I know you care, it's just why leave _just_ me out?" I looked over to the detective, his eyes were definitely sad.

**Sherlock:** why would he think I didn't care, I cared, in fact I cared too much, that was my problem, as Mycroft had once told me 'feelings were a disadvantage,' and he had once said to me that I cared too much, so I needed to shut it off, it helped me cope in those early years. "I, I left out Anderson and Donavon, didn't I?" I huffed "but that doesn't count because you hate them," John retorted, I snorted, amused, "okay john, here it is, I didn't want you to get hurt, Moriate had said something to me on that roof, I was wearing a wire from lestrade, he was listening in, I was trying to get him to tell me his 'plan' when he said that everyone had a sniper pointed at them, he was very careful with what he said, like he knew I'd be wearing a wire. But I put his foot in it when it came to you…" I shivered remembering that conversation.

'_Well. Here we are at last. You and me, Sherlock. And our problem; The Final Problem. "Ah, Ah, Ah staying alive, Staying Alive" 'So boring, isn't it? It's just... staying. All my life I've been searching for distractions. And you were the best distraction and now I don't even have you. Because I've beaten you. And you know what? In the end it easy. It was easy. Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people. And it turns out you're ordinary. Just like all of them. Oh well.' sigh 'Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get ya?' he turns ' Richard Brook.' I raise my eyebrow, 'Nobody seems to get the joke. But you do.' I wish to wipe the smile off his face 'Of course.' 'Atta boy.' 'Rich Brook in German is Reichenbach. The case that made my name.' obviously ' Just tryin' to have some fun.' I start tapping 'Good. You got that too.' 'Beats like digits. Every beat is a one, every rest is a zero. Binary code. That's why all those assassins tried to save my life. It was hidden on me, hidden inside my head. A few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system.' Genius 'Told all my clients. Last one to Sherlock is a sissy. I knew you'd fall for it. That's your weakness. You always want everything to be clever. Now shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you chose a tall building. Nice way to do it.' -'Do it. Do what? Yes, of course. My suicide.' Fool '"Genius detective proved to be a fraud." I read it in the paper so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairy tales... and pretty grim ones too.' Psycho 'I can still prove that you created an entirely false identity.' That's it keep talking, 'Oh just kill yourself. It's a lot less effort. Go on. For me.' -'You're insane.' _

'_You're just getting that now? Okay, let me give you a little extra incentive. Your friends will die if you don't.' ice grips my chest ' John.' –'Not just John. Everyone. Three bullets. Three gunmen. Three victims. There's no stopping them now. Unless my people see you jump. You can have me arrested, you can torture me. You can do anything you like with me, but nothing's going to prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only three friends in the world will die. Unless' –' Unless I kill myself and complete your story.' Smug faced ' You gotta admit, that's sexier.'-' And I die in disgrace.' 'Of course. That's the point of this. Off you pop. I told you how this ends. Go on. Your death is the only thing that's going to call off the killers. I'm certainly not going to do it.'-'What?! What is it? What did I miss?' 'You're not going to do it. So the killers can be called off then. There's a recall code or a word or a number. I don't have to die if I've got you.' _

_Moriarty: Oh, you think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?' I've got him! 'Yes. So do you.' 'Sherlock, your big brother and all the King's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to.' 'Yes, but I'm not my brother, remember? I am you. Prepared to do anything. Prepared to burn. Prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell, I shall not disappoint you.' ' Nah. You talk big. Nah. You're ordinary. You're ordinary. You're on the side of the angels.' An angel? 'Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them.' 'No. You're not. I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me. You're me. Thank you. Sherlock Holmes. Thank you. Bless you. As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends. You've got a way out. Well good luck with that.' Puts bullet to his mouth then pulls away, "oh and Holmes, if I live, john still dies, in a most interesting and long death, thanks to you, if you try to stop me, he will be taken right now, to a safe place and' _he whispered the details in my ear then pulls back, after a while he says _'…let's just say it's not pretty.' Knowing he's got me he says smugly 'Good bye Mr Holmes," He kills himself._

"Sherlock! Hey, hey, it's okay, god you're shaking," I came out of my mind palace crumpled on the floor, in the arms of John, my head under his chin, I breathed in his scent, "welcome back, what were you…what's wrong?" I hid my face in his chest, "if I lived you'd all die, but if Moriate lived you'd still die, only…" I shivered trying not to think of the things he'd whispered in my ear, "It would be long and extensive," I swallowed hard. "oh," john was lost for words.


	3. Chapter 3 scars

**Chapter 3.**

**(Am I lucky to have this much time on the laptop for myself or what-**yey to three days of college**) Please review-I feed on them for supper **** hehe. This one is more fluffy-but a warning that this is an Abuse theme. **

**John:** "Oh,"I was lost for words; it was all done to save me? "What were they going to do to me that would make you kill yourself?" I pondered. For god sake, I said it out loud again, Sherlock's face fell like shutters and he was cool, in control, it had to be bad for his defences to go up. "I-er Sherlock you don't have to…I was just…"-"no John you deserve to know the truth," he sat on the sofa and beckoned me to sit beside him, this was very bad. He never asked me to do anything unless it wasn't bad. He usually ordered me about, and didn't give me any choice, but here we were, Sherlock looking up at me with questioning eyes, I stood, groaning at the pain in my knees-I'm getting too old for this-and sat next to the detective. "start at the beginning," I feel like my therapist, he swallowed and nervously looked at his hands like they had become fascinating. "Well you know I'm a narcissistic sociopath right?" he won't look at me, "…yees…" not comprehending what this has to do with the whole 'me dying a slow and painful death' thing, "well, there's a reason why I am the way I am, and Moriate read my file, he found out what…happened to me when I was a boy," I could feel the fear vibrating off him "what, what happened?" did I want to know? "Yes John, you do," I hate it when he did that, "you remember I told you my mother left when I was eight," he looked for confirmation and after nodding he continued.

"My mother-when she left, my father blamed it on me. He resented me, he saw her in my features, my dark hair and cheek bones were inherited from her. Then my father became an alcoholic, he was always an angry man, with a bad temper. He took it out on me. he would repeatedly beat me, but that was fine, I could cope with that, but then he…he stared coming into my room at night…he said that I would be his wife now, it was my fault I had driven mummy away…oh god this is messed up," he hid his face in his hands, what do I say? "Mycroft says I'm the virgin, but I'm not, if he knew what happened…it'd kill him, he's supposed to be my big brother and he'd let this happen…imagine what he would do, anyway it's in the past, mummy came back for us." He sniffled and wiped his eyes, "Sherlock, I-I'm sorry,"-"wait, John, don't you get it? Moriate wanted to do the things my father did to me, to you," he looked up at me with big eyes, "I couldn't stand it if it happened to you," he clutched my hand in his, "you're my best friend, John, I won't let anyone hurt you," he said it as a promise, his eyes were raw and it was hard to keep his gaze, it made all of my insides go warm and my heart flutter. Oh Sherlock! I put my hand on the back of his head, and brought our for heads into contact. It all finally made sense. "I'm sorry," for everything "I know," he smiled, his one big grey eye blinked-don't go there John.

He pulled me back into a huge hug, when I tried to back away, "I wanted so much to tell you John, but they were keeping tabs on your behaviour, on your mourning stages, I had picked off every sniper so far except yours…" he sat backwards "that's why it's taking so long, you see, he is an Ex-British military officer, by the name of Sebastian Moran. I see you know the name," yes I knew of Moran, "he was a great British Army officer with a distinction in Afghanistan and India, but for unknown reasons he went wrong and had to retire from the Army to prevent scandal. He was said to have been a great shot," I grinned to myself at remembering all of this information "yes, very good John, and shortly after returning to England, he was recruited by Moriarty and served as his Chief of Staff. He was set the task of killing and…torturing you, he and Moriate were, how would you put it? Lovers? Consenting partners? Anyway, that is not of importance, he saw me alive after the fall and he has been chasing me ever since, and of course watching over you," he smiled at me.

"So he's the reason it's been so long?" he bit his lip like he was thinking of telling me something, "hum? Oh yes," he said distractedly then if understanding my train of thought he said "that case you are on at the moment, yesterday? the one about the rich aristocrat that was found shot in his study after a night of serious gambling?" he asked and I nodded wondering how he knew, "it was Moran, John, it wasn't a pistol, by the way, it was a gun disguised as a cane, very clever way to get through transport, it even has a silencer…" "Sherlock," I said, getting him back on track, "yes, sorry, where was I? Oh yes, he shot the boy form the other house opposite his window," –"how did you…?" –"Think,"-"the old man in the house was you?" he smiled "yes john, I was in disguise, I had to be, I wanted to be close to you, and keep tracks on Moran." He shrugged "would you like to come on one last adventure with me?" oh hell yes! "and by the way John, nice tash!"


	4. Chapter 4 back the chase

_**Does anyone ever review these days? Ah well, I promise this one will have more (way, way more) romance between the two, this is attached to the book 'the return of Sherlock Holmes' by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. **____** And if anyone can be bothered please, please review-I'm resorting to begging now! It's a slow starting story but there will be some action soon, so stick with it please. You won't regret it :-D**_

He likes my Moustache? "Thanks," I grin, "it makes you look…good," he's not very good at complements "thank you," he stood and looked at his watch, oh god, look at that sexy man, standing there with his tight purple shirt, and his black tousled hair…my belly filled with warmth...stop it John! He's A-sexual. He doesn't have that type of feelings. Don't go there. He's only been back in your life and you are acting like a hormonal teenager. "It's time to go, John," he grinned, "go..?" I hated how distracted I sounded, "to the other house, opposite from here," he grabbed his signature coat and scarf then I cursed "lestrade, he's outside," I stood, to stop Sherlock when he grinned more "no matter, I've already sent a text to him, we need him for this case, for the murder of Ronal Adair, you do remember his name correct?" of course I do, Sherlock, "let's get a move on then." I chuckled and then a thought occurred to me, "are we going now to catch Moran?" and he fluttered his hands at me while bustling about. Looks like a yes.

We were out and across the street in a matter of moments, at it felt great! It was good to be here, with Sherlock, I'm happy, no-ecstatic! I was riding my own high, in ecstasy at being here in this secluded, dark room, looking out into the window of 221B Baker Street, at the silhouette of Sherlock seen inside, "how?" I had started but Sherlock gave me a 'don't be stupid' look and it must have been the wax works figure that was supposed to be in the 'Madame Tussauds'. Which he had obviously stolen, the shadow moved… "Sherlock!" I pointed, shocked and maybe a little scared, "don't be ridiculous John, Mrs Hudson is instructed to move it every now and then to make it seem I'm really there," he checks his watch, "time, come and hide in the cupboard, John, unless you want to be caught my Moran, then be my guest," already knowing what I would say, giving in I crammed myself into the small hole with Sherlock…oh god he smelt soo good, he placed his hand on the small of my back, I shivered, and he arched his brow at me, blushing I looked away and stared out of the crack, then we froze at the sound of footsteps, our breathing matched as we relaxed at the oncoming events.

He was short, about my height, with dark brown hair and a thin face; he wore a black diamond coat and dark blue jeans, a white shirt poked out of the bottom. He turned when I made a slight sound when I shifted feet, his face shocked me; he had a huge scar running from his forehead to his jaw on the right hand side, hidden from view when turned to the window. Sherlock's hand tightened on my arm, we both tensed and stayed as still as air. Bad quotation, but after a while he turned his attention back to the window and continued to construct his gun. He then proceeded to open the window, and stick the air gun out. I looked over to Sherlock, 'now', I questioned; he gave a slow shake of the head, 'not yet'. So we waited and waited, until he took the shot. Then out, burst Sherlock, like a giant jack-in-the-box, and I followed suit, Moran jumped and swivelled round, planning to bring the Cane down on Sherlock's head, but Sherlock being as clever as he is, dodged it quickly and had the man in a choke hold, "quick john, call lestrade, now please!" he struggled with the wriggling man in front of him as I pressed the button. "Done," I said, "Agh!" the shorter man lunged forward to wrap his hands around my neck. The phone slipped out of my hand and clashed to the floor; I couldn't breathe-my vocal cords and air ways completely blocked off by the surprisingly large hands of Moran. "No, big, mistake!" I heard Sherlock's voice through a tunnel, "Sher...lock!" I wheezed as I was let go, Moran slumping to the floor, I gasped for air, calming down from my recent attack I looked down at the body, "god Sherlock! You've killed him!"-"no, john, look again," he was straitening his coat, I looked at Moran, he was out cold, slight concussion after I looked into his eyes-I'm beginning to sound like Sherlock.

"You hit him with the gun Sherlock, now you'll be done for tampering with evidence again!" he shrugged "it was the closest thing I could find!" not at all apologetic, as per. "Thank you," still grateful for him saving me, "I know," he gave me a sideways smile, _that_ sexy smile. He knew what it did to me, I've told him many times to stop it, he knew I had feelings about this smile, so why do it? I AM STRAIT! "Precisely," he said, then in burst Lestrade, "WHAT the HELL?" he stared down at Moran, "and who is he?" he pointed, "do you know that thing I asked you to stay for? Well this is it," Sherlock was already scanning Moran for details, "nope, he's not dead Anderson," he said without looking up, "and I was so looking forward to seeing you behind bars," in came his nasal voice, I clenched my teeth, "I thought that was all settled? You know he did NOT kidnap those children, the evidence has all been collected." He looked up and scowled "well how to we know you didn't plant them in the first place?"-"shut UP, you two," lestrade rubbed his hand across his forehead. I couldn't help myself when it came to Anderson, he was soo…annoying. Sherlock smirked up at me; he was enjoying himself, "where did you get those hand cuffs?" Lestrade asked Sherlock, and his smirk widened into a grin, "off your desk," he was like a purring kitten, contented at of the bickering. He was definitely back.

**Sherlock:** oh it was good to get the team back together, "I thought so," Lestrade muttered to himself; I turned back to the moaning man in front of me, his dark tousled head lifting up so survey his surroundings, which (THUD!) gives me incentive to punch him in the face and he blacked out again, "SHERLOCK!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"-"SHERLOCK!"-"DON'T HIT THE…!" "We need him unconscious because we need to get him to MYCROFT, HEY!" John grabbed my arm, "what are you thinking?" he hissed in a hushed tone at me, "I was merely thinking we don't want him to slip through our fingers again," I hissed back, "again? Sherlock, what?" he frowned at me, "later," I said moving back to the group, Moran was being moved outside by my brothers men, I nodded to them, I think their names were either, Ben and Callum or Ben and Colin? Ah well it didn't really matter, I swiftly followed them down the stairs and after john picked up his phone he joined me too, to my brothers black car, the door opened and out came my brothers obnoxious voice, "well done brother, at least it worked, _this_ time," I scooted over to the middle of the car, making room for john, as my brother sat opposite, "it would have worked if it wasn't for your incompetent men, Henry is NOT incompetent, you just gave him the wrong instructions," he had his trade mark umbrella at his side, I shook my head, not wanting to get into that again. "He's here now," I grumbled, "don't sulk, it is not flattering," he was one to talk, "how did it go down, swimmingly?" he eyed johns neck, seeing the red welts already forming there. "Humm," I mumbled unintelligibly, "John, are you okay?" I said, actual concern on my face, he flushed red, "I, er, yes," embarrassment from both sides, either one of us not used to these new feelings. "Ahem," Mycroft cleared his throat, "yes, right, how was the trip?" and that was that. Mycroft and I discussed the dreadful conditions of second class flying and the derogatory food that they served, when it had been presented to me I had asked the blond bimbo with the massively fake breasts if it was even edible, I was moved down to first class with that comment and was actually threatened with the fact that if I offended another member of staff I'd be thrown into the cargo hold till we landed. Needless to say a text from Mycroft had me back in first class in no time.

John found this highly amusing and had chuckled to himself for ten minutes. This made me smile, Mycroft had noticed as per usual. John's phone beeped, he had a text message, and the first probable conclusion was that it is Mary. This sent a bout of jealousy through me, which made me considerably more irritable. John is mine! Where had that come from? Mycroft had said something to me and I answered, but my perceptual vision was on John and the text. He frowned down at his phone; giving a sigh he started texting. Definitely not Mary, it was Harry, probably depressed after another brake-up with Clara, and a possible relapse in the drinking area. I relaxed and smirked to myself. Mycroft narrowed his eyes, and looked pointedly at an oblivious John. We had a conversation through our eyes only, it went something like this: _'are you really going there?' 'So what if I was?' 'You know as well as I do that john is straight, and is currently engaged to be wed' 'I'll soon change that' 'don't be stupid, Sherlock, that will never happen, he is STRAIT, and he has an obsession with breasts' (_okay I added the bit about the breasts in myself, but he would have mentioned the breasts if he knew of johns fetish-but with Mycroft one would never know_) 'I know that, I am willing to wait for the right moment to seduce him, I know he had feelings before, he just needs reminding of that' 'fine. But on your head be it.'_

**John:** they were doing that creepy talking without really talking thing again. I shifted uncomfortably in the seat; they turned in union to look at me, god that was still so …disturbing, they were still so eerily alike it was scary. "Well, what do we do now?" I asked to still the silence, Sherlock gave me that 'really john' look and I swallowed hard; he can be a real jerk when he was with his brother. "We are going to 'interview' Mr Moran," at least Mycroft was being polite and telling me what is going on without leaving me in the dark to play catch up. To be honest I didn't want to know the implications of his term for 'interview' meant. "You mean 'forceful interrogation'," Sherlock really had a way for words, "that too," his face moved into a vicious smile, I didn't like that smile, it was…disturbing. All the hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. "So…why am I still here?" they looked confusedly at me "the car, why am I in the car, why am I not at home?" they then looked at me like I was dim-witted "you are here so that we can talk, properly with no distractions," Sherlock said, and Mycroft snorted before saying "Actually we need your statement," I nodded "okay, that sounds more plausible," I said. He smiled unemotionally at me then gave Sherlock a pointed look, before Sherlock slumped and stared sulkily out of the window. Mycroft gave him a look of distasted before turning to me and saying, "how's your Mary doing, well I hope?"

**Sherlock:** "She's fine thank you," stupid, boring Mycroft, can't keep his nose out of other peoples (well actually my) business, inconsiderate, fat slob. Should have interviewed Moran myself…won't ever ask him for help again. And Mary, humph, I'm ten times better than _Mary_, wish I could get my hands on a photograph, better yet the real thing would be fine. John got out his phone, showing a photograph to Mycroft, I snatched it out of his hands "hey!" it was Mary, dressed in a blue summer dress, three wedding cakes on the table in front of her. She had a long face, high cheek bones, black curly hair that brushed her clavicle, grey eyes, exactly 6' (1.83 m) in height…oh my god it's me! She looks like me! She smiled daintily out at the camera. I froze; John took the phone off me, and then continued his little speech "so which one do you think? Personally I like the white chocolate cake, the one with the little roses on." Mycroft looked at the picture again and said, "I suppose it's nice, but it's not a traditional wedding cake," he looked like he was actually contemplating his answer, "that's the point," John smiled "its modern, I've never liked the traditional cake, too much icing, plus Mary likes…"-"white chocolate," I finished, of course she'd like white chocolate, it was my favourite too, "exactly," John nodded.

I looked at Mycroft who shrugged, I glared. Just exactly how did they meet-the Swedish conference? This was Mycroft's doing, I bet she doesn't actually like John, it was set up. I hated my stupid big brother more then, than I ever did before. And for goodness sake were they…were they bonding? There was not a chance that I was letting this go in any further. "Can we get back to business or do we have to carry on with this mindless drabble?" that was a good one, it showed I didn't care about his _wedding_ cake, "Sherlock, talking about wedding cake is not _drabble_," John said, sulking, I gave him my 'I don't really care what _you_ think' look, before turning to Mycroft. "Who's going in first, you or me?" I asked, and he rolled his eyes, "me, of course,"-"of course," I gave him my cockiest grin and said, "you won't be able to get anything out of him, you know," he gave me a 'bring it on' look before saying "we shall see," John sighed, shaking his head, turning to look out of the window because he knew this conversation would go on for some time.

We had made our way into Mycroft's department, to the interview room to hear already someone screaming in pain, Moran losing a thumb nail. John flinched-it goes against his nature being a doctor hearing someone in pain and not doing anything to stop it. I patted his shoulder in sympathy-Gah, was I experiencing _sympathy_ now? I am not emotional attached to anything; it must be my close encounter with death. He smiled sadly, before he was taken into another room for his statement. Mycroft took mine, writing in his messy short hand, into a black note pad, he hid it in his left pocket. Hum, it would be interesting to find out how he'd take it if I took it home with me, I'm curious, what sort of things does he have written in it? It seems to be half full. I'd have to be conspicuous about it..."what Sherlock?" my brothers voice snapped me out of the planning, "nothing," I grinned, "that does not look good, what are you planning?" his voice took on that warning edge, which made me grin wider. He didn't know what was coming. Someone knocked on the door, my brother gave me that look before shouting "come in," it was the 'we'll talk about this later' I scowled, "sir? The suspect will talk, but on one condition," it was one of the suit monkeys, from his greased back hair to his shiny shoes. Now I was intrigued, "well go on…" my brother had I very low patients-tolerance whatever you want to call it when it came to business. "He wants both Dr John Watson and Mr Sherlock Holmes to question him…"-"but?"-"no, there's no but's, he wants them hand cuffed together, and onto the table, so they can't leave until he's finished with his explanation," sounds like Moriate's work to me. Mycroft sighed, and John, who had walked into the room at the same time shouted "he wants WHAT!?" his face was a picture "fine we'll do it," I said, putting my coat and scarf over arm. "What!" John was very confused, and now angry, "it's not like we've not been hand cuffed together before is it?" I smirked "no, of course not, but my opinion doesn't count at all either then does it?" it was my time to sigh, "Really john, what's the problem?" hating that this conversation was in front of both Mycroft and one of his henchman. "The problem is," he pulled us to the side and hissed "the problem is, you come into my life after 3 years and start making my decisions for me," he glared "I'm not a child you know," I sighed and rolled my eyes, "John, I do not think you are an adolescence, I simply want this to be over with, I have things I need to do, such as there's a very exciting skin experiments I would like to carry out on…not the right moment right?" I flushed at the smoulderingly angry look John looked at me with. Then he sighed, giving up. "okay, let's get on with it then."


	5. Chapter 5 Moran

**Heya peoples: **

**Here's chapter 6-sorry it's taken so long. Anyway thanks to **BlueCanto** for the review and the constructive criticism **** I would love to write in third person, but because I am only writing this when I am currently on a writer's block it is hard to switch back and forth but I will try to put more space between speakers.**

**I've just had and operation on my knee so I can write faster, plus my book is getting in the way of this fic. Here's a better introduction of Moran, you will get a better scope of the sort of man Moriate's right hand was to me in this story. Here you go: (Plus a little review goes a long way, please, if you are reading give a tiny review on what you thing. Thank you.) **

**John: **he is such a kid sometimes. He's just so inconsiderate! It was great he's back, everything was in vibrant colour, like I was 'Dorothy' when she was in Oz, excuse the metaphor, sigh, I followed Sherlock and the suit's into the room, god Sherlock looked so sexy in that tight purple shirt, I watched his shoulder muscles flex beneath the fabric, what I'd give just to…where were these thoughts coming from? He was back for only a few hours, and I was already pining after him, he was strait, I was strait, this was wrong, it was just my happiness at him being back that made these feelings tenfold. Focus, John, focus; we sat opposite the table, "Mr Holmes, Dr Watson," Moran said, coolly, "Moran," Sherlock said, sitting with a flourish, I nodded hardly, jaw still tense from fighting my emotions, "the cuffs if you please," he said, his hands already secured to the table, "I assure you, I cannot get out, I need you to listen," his voice was surprisingly soft, gentle, his eyes two sparkly diamonds, more closer to white than blue. Sherlock nodded to the suit, who first cuffed Sherlock's right hand to the table, this whole satiation was bizarre, why cuff us to the table, wasn't our word that we'd listen to everything not enough? Our wrists were cuffed next, and then my left wrist was secured to the table.

I felt humiliated, sitting cuffed like I was the one being interrogated, I have only ever had 1 ASBO, and that was Sherlock's fault, on case. We were on the right side of the law, not a criminal. Sherlock observed Moran with cold calculation, then he began "why does it have to be like this?" he jingled the handcuffs about so they clanked, Moran chuckled "one last request from Jim," he shrugged so it wasn't his idea, Sherlock nodded like he expected it, so this humiliation was intended then. "what was your relationship to Jim Moriate?" the question caught me off guard, surely he was just one of Moriate's goonies? Moran blushed; this was not the man from before, it just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

**Sherlock:** Moran was very interesting; he was playing with us, he blushed embarrassed at my question, and squirmed in his seat "I prefer not to answer that question, Mr Holmes," he looked at John when he said this , my eyes roamed over Moran's body, calculating, deducing-ah, he really did get his 'live in pet' as he said he needed; "lovers then," I nodded to myself, he cleared his throat, "as I said, I'd prefer not to discuss this," an angry glint in his eyes, "just as you'd rather not discus you 'relationship' with Dr Watson," his lips moved up in a little half smile, John puffed up, his chest inflating, his face angry, but I butted in to stop any words from forming, "it is a business partnership not a relationship we share," cold, calculated words, professional, Mycroft would be pleased. "Sure, sure, if you insist." he chuckled, "yes. I do; so I will say the question again, what was relationship to Jim Moriate, was is personal to your actions, did this influence you into this kind of life? Do elaborate," I pulled my arms together steepled under my chin, of course this tightened the chains and pulled Johns arm into the air, "Sherlock!" John complained, I ignored this, assessing, reading Moran like a book. He was a smoker, the tell tail signs form his yellowing teeth, the stains on his hand to the slivers of his own special brand of tobacco smoked in Afghanistan, I had no doubts john had not noticed this, it was the particular brand his men would have smoked over there. The increasing way Moran was tapping on the table suggests that he hasn't smoked in a while. The tap...Tap...Tap, tap,taptapatapatap, was seriously getting on my nerves, "would you please have smoke? That taping is irritating me," I snapped, he was making me want to smoke, it had been two years, three days and 48 hours since my last smoke, I felt the need for a new nicotine patch. He grinned smugly at me and from his pocket he brought out his fag. I nodded to the suit as I brought out my golden lighter-the one I snatched from Mycroft's desk-and lit Moran's roll-up. He took a deep drag and blew out the smoke in my direction. I leaned forward unintentionally in my seat and breathed it in. I sighed, John frowned at me, and I made my mouth move up into the resemblance of a 'sorry' smile. It was more like a twitch than anything but it would have to do. Moran relaxed into his chair. "Now, shall we get on with it?" I mentally shook myself, to stop from looking at the lines around john's mouth. "Yes, lets," I straightened up, "I deduce that you were frequent lovers-so it wasn't for money-so, it was out of obligation then-no, that's not quite it, it was something else then…" my eyes raked his clothes, face, hands-nothing evidential here "is it love you are after? Surely you will understand love, Mr Holmes," my eyes flickered over, I grunted, narrowing my eyes.

His tongue flickered out wetting his lips; I noticed a sliver glint-a metal stud-glisten from his mouth. It made me uncomfortable thinking about what that type of piercing was done for, especially when it had to do with Moriate; I supressed a disgusted shiver. "So, you did this because you 'loved' him." I had to force the word out, love, it wasn't real, "that is a statement not a question," he grinned taking a puff, he was starting to sound like him now "yes, now be quiet I am deducing," he chuckled "you helped him in his 'quest'" –it was certainly the right way of putting it, and Moran smiled, "of getting rid of me, did you know he would kill himself?" his face fell and lost its mask for a second revealing a very depressed and lonely man, "that's a no then, but you knew you wouldn't see him for a while." I sifted through past and present information, my thinking pose prominent as I put it all in a box labelled "the fall' for later use. "Come on, I have all the information I need," I nod to the suit to show we were ready to leave when john says "wait a minute, I'm lost," I roll my eyes and look to my partner, "are you just going to leave me in the dark?" he said, Ah, dull, boring explanations. "What is it you need to know?" Moran said, "first off, what was your involvement in Sherlock's 'fake-death' why were you tailing me?" he had his angry face on, "Jim asked me to have the pleasure of pointing the gun at you, Dr Watson, he wanted his 'pet' to tail the great consulting detectives 'pet'." He looked displeased at the pet calling, a good joke from me I should say so myself, it almost made me loose composure. "Oh…and another thing, why?" john do keep up, use your head! "Why? Isn't it so simple, you're the most important person in the world to Sherlock, he should have kept his feelings in a closer guard, taken a leaf from his brothers book." He smirked I nodded again and the suit came in to let us free. "No, wait, you haven't heard me out!" he protested as I started to get up "not interested," I said, "you promised!" he was getting angry now, "I know what you are going to say and the answer is no," I rubbed my wrists, I am aloof, disconnected. "You have no choice, you will have to submit some time," I shrugged "I don't need you to tell me what I wanted, I deduced it myself." He glared, ooh scary; I don't see why they think that I will change my mind because of a 'look' from someone. I left the room from a screeching maniac I could see why those two got on, "I'LL GET YOU SHERLOCK HOLMES!" really he was beginning to sound like all those droll people I get in every case I solve, all shouting their revenge but getting nowhere. It's just all so boring.

"Sherlock! Wait up!" John really needs to exercise more, I stopped, rolling my eyes "I saw that!" I giggled to myself, he was really good and spotting these things, "I know you did," I turned to smile at him, marching up, all macho with that tash, I mean what I said, I really, really like that tash. It was soo sexy. It was too much. "What?" he said self-consciously "what?" I said coming to my senses "you were watching me again," he narrowed his eyes, "yes, well, I was in my mind palace, sorry,"-"twice in one day, Sherlock are you sure you're okay?" he smiled referring to my apologies, I smiled back "I am perfectly fine John," we began to walk again; our silences were really nice, needed. "So, what was all that about?" oh John, can you just not be so 'normal?' do I have to explain everything? "Sherlock?" he shoulder bumped me, "yes, we got what we needed from Moran, so we left," I said, obviously, "and that was…?" I sighed "we know it was Him that was following you, we know he killed your man, so not only will he go down for being a hired gun, he will go down for the murder of Ronal Adair. We _have_ what we need." He was giving me that look again, that 'what are you up to' look. "What did he want to tell you?" I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes, "he wanted to trade Moriate's secrets for freedom." Shaking my head I pushed open Mycroft's door, he was gone to the 'meeting' of what I cannot disclose, something to do with Germany and Switzerland no doubt. "But, don't you want his secrets?" he needs to keep up! I've been gone too long, his brains gone soft. "Nope, already know them all, I have been gone 3 years John. Moriate's whole underground army has been terminated thanks to me. I just needed Moran to confess, the best way to get him to do that was to let him think I was interested in what he had to say, the handcuffs were Moriate's sick idea of a joke from beyond the grave," I took a breath. John, nodded, filing away the information, like I used to see him doing, "John," my voice sounded little, fragile, Dam these 'Emotions!' "Sherlock?" now he was getting worried.

"There's something I need to tell you, about Mary," ah oh, his guard came up, "what is it?" he was getting defensive "please sit down," he sat in my brothers big brown chair, "I'm listening," I sat opposite him, steeling my hands, I didn't know how to tell him the news I found out when I looked at his picture, "John…how do I put this as gently as possible?"-"just spit it out," I can see the fear building inside him, "okay, John, I know you _think_ you love Mary,"—"I _DO_ love Mary..." "Don't interrupt john it's rude, but it's possible she doesn't love you at all," he was angry now "Just where are you going with this?!" I put my hands palms up, "just before I say anything I didn't know he did it, if I did I swear I would have stopped him before you developed 'feelings' for the girl…" "Sherlock!" he warned "okay, John, Mary…Mary is, Mycroft sent Mary one of his secret agent to look after you on a more permanent basis, kind of a live in gun, to protect you, I…John where are you going!" I shot up to follow a very, very angry ex-marine, what have I done? "John!" he burst through the doors, marched up to the meeting room, stopped thankfully by the guards to enter, but started screaming "MYCROFT! GET OUT HERE THIS MINUET! MYCROFT! MYYYCROFFT!" my brother opened the door to see a red faced John fighting with two very big men, red faced and a rueful little brother, "tell me you didn't," he said to me, "I'm sorry," I said "no you aren't," he glared, "john, please calm down," he approached john, "No you don't tell me to calm down! I am so angry with you right now I swear if I get to you a will rip off your balls and feed them to Gladstone!" I couldn't help the chuckle, it was too funny, and my brother gave me his 'you're so not helping' look.

I shrugged and watched the show, that'll teach him to lie to my John. "Look Dr Watson, it was the only way we could keep watch of you without rousing suspicions," jerk, I snorted, "you don't get it do you! You and your brother just don't get that you can't just play with other people's emotions, yes you too Sherlock! I don't want to see either of you again! Take me home!" ouch that stung! It was my turn to glare "this is not my fault!" I snapped "you both are lying bastards!" "JOHN!" "Dr Watson!" "Just SHUT UP! Both of you just _shut up_ and _**listen**_!" my jaw snapped shut, "I-I need some time to myself, take me home!" Mycroft nodded and his goonies let John go, "get Anthea," he said to the suit with the brown hair. "If you'll excuse me-" THUNK! "That's for being a twat!" I can't believe it! John had just punched my brother in the face, he was obviously grabbed again but my brother waved at them not to bother, so he was released "Dr Watson, go before I have you arrested, you too brother, don't try my patients." We were ushered out, and piled into the back of the black car, Anthea tapping away in her phone. John was angry with me, ME! what have I done? I am trying to protect him, I-I love him. I think. God these emotions are so alien to me, I cannot understand them all. We sat in strained silence for a while, until I started laughing, john looked over, eyebrow raised "I can't believe you really hit Mycroft!" I chortled happily, john joined in my laughter after a while of fighting it, shaking his head and wiping tears from his eyes he said "me neither," the laugher relapsed and we both were silent, "I'm so sorry John, if I had known…" "forget it," "I mean if I had known sooner…" "I said forget it Sherlock, it is done," I placed my hand onto Johns that was resting on his lap, and squeezed his hand. He looked out the window but didn't take his hand away. This was a good sign right? we continued in silence to 221B Baker Street.


End file.
